Flip Side
by Derp San
Summary: Two years after The Faeries' Ruin, Brynn and Hanso meet again under very unusual circumstances...  This story is a collab with my friend, ruff1298.
1. The Concert

Brynn looked down at the small, shiny piece of glossy paper in her hand. That piece of paper alone unlocked the gateway to bliss: Flip Side's concert at the Tyrannian Concert Hall.

Like many other girls AND guys alike, Brynn had become a fan of Flip Side since their first single, Master Thief debuted on Tyrannian radio waves. Flip Side was one of those bands where you never really knew what the band looked like, due to excessive facepaint, decorative spikes and other metal counterparts of their outfits. However, the mysterious Ixi frontman still managed to garner the affection of hundreds upon thousands of fangirls, seeing as his still-visible smile was enough to make any girl fall head over heels for him.

Snapping out of the brief flashback, Brynn lifted her gaze from her most prized possession and, putting it in her pocket, rushed over to join the fans milling about outside the concert hall, enjoying the free soup provided by the Soup Faerie (for this occasion only, seeing as it was a huge event and what with the Soup Faerie being a fan too) and of course, Adee the Chia's famous multi flavoured icecream.

Brynn had not fallen short of going all out for the concert. Dressed in a limited edition 'vintage' Flip Side shirt, emblem and all, she had gone to the painstaking lengths of painting her face exactly like their frontman, Rogue. The young Kougra held her head high as she navigated the crush of Neopets and owners alike, and she noticed more than one or two people looking at her in awe.

The Soup Faerie's booth soon appeared in front of her. Brynn took some minestrone soup and moved away, unaware of the sudden tragedy that had befallen her in that brief moment.

FIVE MINUTES EARLIER, BACKSTAGE

"Ah'm itchin' fer some action!" Pickpocket, the bass guitarist of Flip Side complained. "Buhn a looooong time since ah set me eyes on summun's goods."

"You know we gave up stealing when we formed Flip Side, Pickpocket," Rogue said. "Now if you would just stay there and not steal anybody's things while I paint my face, we can start the concert fast and greet the massive crowd out there."

Pickpocket grumbled and strode to the other side of the room, where Animal, the mutant Kau drummer, was leaning against the wall, hitting the air with his sticks.

Rogue looked at his very, very satisfactory face in the mirror and began to take out his brushes and draw the outlines of his intricate paint mask. What he did not see was Pickpocket sneaking out of the room, muttering "Ah can't resist, Rogue, surry!" before disappearing into the night.

Pickpocket scurried around the field, making sure to duck if someone so much as turned their head. Everyone's items were in bags, and unzipping them here would be a bit conspicuous as for every two fans in the crowd there was one guard, armed with weapons from the lowly Faerieland Magic Dampener to the very advanced, spanking new Virtupets VLS that ranged up to 1800m.

A glint just outside his view caught his attention. He whirled around to see a shiny piece of paper sticking out of someone's pocket. Now, all that glitters may not be gold, but to Pickpocket, anything shiny was a must-have. The middle aged yet grey toothed Zafara smiled and without a sound, plucked the paper from its nest and made off with it, back to the dressing room.

Pickpocket sped off, constantly looking behind him to see if any of those ultra tech savvy guards were on his trail. He burst into the cover of the dressing room and turned in front, seeing Rogue's angry face in front of his.

"Pick, what did I tell you?" Rogue asked, like an angry mother about to ground her child.

"Ah... ah couldn't help meself! Just needed sumthin to get me by, y'knoe, to calm meself and all. What with this 'ere big gig and such."

Rogue sighed. It was hard to take him seriously when the top half of his face was covered in white, black and blue facepaint and the other half was not. "Just go paint your face," he said resignedly.

Pickpocket was so glad he had been let off the hook, he rushed to his dressing table but stopped as Rogue snatched his loot from his paw.

"Pick! You stole a ticket?"

"Whot? That pretty piece of gold? Naw! Ah thought that wus a gold sheet!"

"PICK!" Rogue raged, about to begin one of his long, and believe me when I stress the LONG, rants that ranged from a minute to rants that could go on for hours if he was not restrained by one of the band members or a bodyguard. He paused, in his Ready-To-Rant pose, chest puffed out and arms akimbo, and opened his mouth to begin the endless journey down Rant Lane.

"We could, of course, just tell the guards to bring us anyone that thought they had a ticket to us, and we'll let them sing onstage with us as a replacement offer," drawled Animal in his Mutanese accent, still air-drumming.

"Erh, yeah, we cud do dat!" Pickpocket hurriedly agreed.

Rogue stopped, still in his pose, looking like a Goldy with his mouth half open and nostrils flared. He composed himself and said frustratedly "Well, we could do that, but we would then have to admit that Pick is a thief, and that won't be very good for our image, is it?"

"With the kind of deal we're offering, the fan will probably be willing to keep quiet," Animal offered. "Well, they have to."

"Excellent, now you go tell the guards, since you don't have to paint your face." Rogue pretended to push Animal out of the room. The Kau clopped off, flipping his sticks in the air occasionally. Animal was a very committed drummer.

"What have you gotten us into, Pick?" Rogue whispered to himself, and sat down to continue painting his fur.


	2. The Encounter

After she had finished her soup and had managed to meet a few other fans of Flip Side, the guards at the gate had started admitting people into the concert hall. Brynn let the crowd gently push her towards the entrance, where two beefy Skeiths stared at her.

"Ticket please, ma'am," one of them growled. Brynn casually reached into her pocket, expecting to draw out the ticket, but her paw came out empty. She tried again, reaching deeper inside her pocket until her paw had explored the whole of the pocket.

"B-but it was here moments ago," she stuttered, and tried again. An unpleasant muttering rose up behind her and the guards exchanged glances.

"Keep it moving, bub!" someone shouted. There was a chorus of agreement and Brynn gulped, thinking of the many ways a rampaging angry mob of Flip Side fans could trample her.

Brynn gave up and just told the guards matter-of-factly that someone had stolen her ticket, then went to stand by the Soup Faerie booth resignedly. As she was leaving, one of the Skeiths dragged her back by the collar, nearly suffocating her.

"Did you say stolen, ma'am?" the guard asked. She nodded, and he then passed her to his other Skeith buddy like he was tossing around a limp rag doll. Then he muttered something about a pickpocket on the loose. The Skeith's eyes widened until they boggled out of their sockets and he took in a deep breath.

"Red alert! Red alert! There has been a code red security breach in the field! I repeat, there has been a code red security breach in the field!"

The fans, who had just been jeering a while ago, stopped and started patting their pockets or checking their bags, worried that their valuables or even worse – their ticket - had been stolen. Other Skeith guards got moving, waving their VLS guns about and giving the evil eye to anyone who they suspected was the crook. A few more zealous ones actually started to check bags for the ticket. The Soup Faerie wailed, making her cauldron bubble and froth, and Adee the Chia dropped the ice cream cone she was handing to a hungry fan.

The Skeith guard put Brynn down and went off to examine people for 'extra' tickets. The other one stayed at the gate and polished his VLS, evidently not bothered to move since his partner had gone to take care of both their jobs. Suddenly, a figure walked up to the guard and whispered something inaudible into the guard's ear. Brynn didn't get to see who it was, since it – whatever it was – had gone as soon as it had appeared. However, she thought she had seen tentacles. Maybe it was just an illusion.

The guard now looked positively more relaxed than he was already, and he called out "False alarm! False alarm! The ticket has been found!" in his gravelly Skeith voice.

The other guards looked at him quizzically. Guard Two returned to his post at the gate and asked "It has?"

"So says them higher up official peoples," replied Guard One. "Ma'am, you're wanted in their presence. Just go straight, turn right and go through the door. You can't miss it."

"Er, okay," Brynn said. Her ticket, even though it had been 'found', had not been given to her, and now she was getting a bit suspicious of these official people.

Brynn followed the guard's direction until she came to a door in one of the doorway shaped standing stone formations, common in Tyrannia. It had a star on the door, giving her the impression that it was currently housing someone important. She knocked on the door set into the stone and went in.

There were three tables inside, and the people she'd wanted to meet for ages were sitting at them.

She was standing in Flip Side's dressing room.

Before she could say anything or start hyperventilating, Pickpocket strode up to her.

"Welcome, missy, so sorry yer here. Terrible accident, it was."

"Terrible? Accident? No, no no no no no! I'm honoured to be here! In your dressing room! I'm so excited! I'm finally meeting you! I-I-I-"

"Erm, lemme introduce meself and the lads first. I'm Pocket. Pick Pocket. And these are-"

"Animal," Brynn said breathlessly, staring at the still drumming Kau. "And Rogue," she gushed. The mysterious blue Ixi was still sitting at his table, his face now covered in the intricate paint mask from snout up. As he turned to greet her, she drew in an even bigger breath than the ones she was already taking.

"I don't believe this!" she cried. "Hanso?"

"Erm, yes, hello, Brynn." Rogue, a.k.a. Hanso, tried to act cool. At the same time, he flashed a look at Pickpocket that said "You HAD to steal from HER?"

"I don't get it, I thought you had gone to live in Meridell!"

"Hehe, er, I did, but as you can see, I met these two fine fellows here who shared my, _aherm_, musical talent, and Flip Side was born!" Hanso declared with a flourish.

"Hmm, yes, yes, methinks I am a fine fellae indeed," said Pickpocket, looking rather pleased with himself. Animal kept practicing.

"That doesn't mean you're off the hook for stealing," Hanso growled.

"He's not, that's why you're here," Animal called from the other end of the room.

"Yes, Animal is right! AND, to make up for Pick here stealing your ticket and causing a false code red alarm, scaring everybody, we are going to offer you a chance to sing with us!" Hanso flashed her one of his Insta FanGirl smiles with it. Brynn too grinned like a nutter, and fainted immediately.

"I guess that means yes," Hanso said, and patted Brynn's shoulder before exclaiming, "Soon, it will be showtime!"


	3. The Song

Brynn woke to the sound of cheering. Not just any cheering. Not like that fake studio cheer in family sitcoms, or the buzz of the crowd at a football stadium, but real, rabid, froth inducing fan cheers.

The former knight snapped to, remembering where she was and what had just happened. Maybe that had been a dream. But it couldn't be, as she was still lying in the stone dressing room, where she had heard Hanso's insane offer (and seen Hanso's insanely _wonderful_ smile) and probably blacked out. A faint twinge of disappointment rose in her as she realized that none of the band members had bothered to pick her up and at least deposit her on that lovely plush couch in the room. Then the revulsion came. _Ugh, why would I want them to? _Sensible Brynn thought.

_Because they're Flip Side! Your IDOLS!_ Fangirl Brynn retorted.

_Nobody should lay a hand on me, not even Flip Side. I was a knight, and might end up hurting them, what with my training and all, _Sensible Brynn explained.

_Your training was so meagre, you had to forge your grades, and that's why you're a FORMER knight of Brightvale, _Fangirl Brynn countered. _Not to mention that you already knew Hanso from before..._

_Shut up, _Sensible Brynn said, and kept quiet.

Shaking off the conflicting feelings, Brynn listened and looked around. The rabid cheering had gotten even louder, as if amplified on a giant Grundoez GLS speaker. She could also hear Hanso speaking. She moved over to a small gap in the curtains that hid the room from the stage and watched.

"Now, before we have to go-"

Before we go? Brynn had missed the whole concert!

"We would like you to welcome a special friend of ours onto the stage." Hanso turned and winked at her as if he had known she was there all along, and beckoned. Brynn followed, like a puppet on a string.

"Please welcome my old comrade, Brynneth!" The crowd oohed and aahed at Hanso's statement, and many fangirls down there were beginning to look displeased.

"Okay, now I know what you're all thinking. Who is this fine young Kougra, and what is she doing here? Well, let's just say that Brynn and I know each other from some time back, and I haven't seen her in a while, so I invited her onstage to sing with us!" A few fangirls raised their "MARRY ME, ROGUE" placards frantically and some even started throwing their limited edition Rogue plushies at him.

"Please, there's no need for this fuss." Hanso smiled another Insta FanGirl smile and played Mr Suave, a role he was all too well accustomed to in his years of being a thief. "Now, Brynn, what would you like to sing?"

"Sub-Zero," Brynn said excitedly. "That's my current favourite from you guys."

"Well then, Sub-Zero it is!" Animal and Pickpocket began to set the background for the ditty, and Brynn was given a separate microphone.

_Better not screw this up now, _both the sensible part and the fangirl part of Brynn thought. _It's my only chance._

She opened her mouth and began to sing.

* * *

"_Beware, Rogue, you've got a rival in your friend there!"_

-Resonance (Maraquan Based Music Critics)

"_Sub-Zero: instant hit. And we're not talking about Flip Side's version."_

-Tyrannia's _Mossy Stone_

"_Our mine shaft rocked with the beats during the encore of Sub-Zero."_

-The Cave, Kreludor's Mine Shaft Musicians

"_Even Count Von Roo would have gotten out of his coffin early to listen to Flip Side's new and improved Sub-Zero!"_

-All Knighters, on Meridell's Late Night Show

"_I regretted not buying a ticket earlier for the concert once I saw that lovely Kougra and heard her even lovelier voice."_

-My Dad's Laptop, your friendly student critic from the VSS

"_Three words: Mister Coconut approves."_

-The Last Word With Mr. Coconut, Haunted Woods' Late Late Late Night Podcast

"_The last song should be retitled, as sub-zero was hardly the reaction that the audience and us at Steamy gave it."_

-Steamy, Moltara's Music Critics

"_Our very own homegrown talent is finally making a name for herself among Meridell's stars."_

-Brightvale Beats

* * *

Neopian Billboard Top 10

10. Mouldy Cheese - Chomby and the Fungus Balls

9. Alegrundo - Lady Grundo

8. Under The Sea - Isca the Aisha

7. Grargghlblargh - The Evil Fuzzles

6. Master Thief - Flip Side

5. I'm Blue(remix) - Blue Kacheek Group

4. All The Right Shapes - Sinsi the Ixi

3. Mine - Pteri Swift

2. Meridellian Girls - Illusen

1. Sub-Zero - Flip Side...erm, sorry, we mean Brynn


	4. The Manager

"No way." That was all that Hanso could say when he saw the charts the next day in the Neopian Times.

"Yes, way," Animal was not calm for the first time, still shocked and raving over how good the reviews were for their concert, and how most reviews were directed at Sub-Zero, the song they had sung with Brynn. Eight hours after the concert had finally ended, the band and Brynn were still sitting in the dressing room, talking about their major success with the audience yesterday. Hanso went to sulk in a corner after he had seen the news, and Pick had fallen asleep, as staying up late was no longer an option for an aging Zafara such as himself.

"We got WAY better ratings than we ever had," raved Animal. "I mean, 5 out of 5 stars from nearly every review, especially from the prestigious _Mossy Stone_ and The Final Word with Mr Coconut! Hanso, you're drooping like a Single Grey Flower. Celebrate! We're officially on the top of the charts AND we've achieved a new rating record!"

"No thanks." Hanso went back to wallowing in self-pity – or was it jealousy?

"I can't believe it EITHER!" Brynn exclaimed. "I mean, in one day, I managed to meet you guys, see Hanso again, and become a mini pop sensation!"

Hanso said something at this, but it was rendered inaudible by Pickpocket's snoring.

"Well, I suggest you come touring with us. You'll be a big help to us and our ratings, and help us score more fans! Besides, you're nice as well, not one of those pathetic wannabes you sometimes find on Neopian Idol."

"W-WHAT?" Hanso shouted, making himself clear now. "Brynn, you can't come on tour, right, cause you have a job, right? Right? RIGHT?"

"Stop shouting, Hanso. Deep breaths. In, out. In, out." Animal continued repeating the mantra.

"But, you're busy, right? Occupied, taken. No time. Hmm?" Hanso continued, disregarding Animal's mantra.

"I could always tell my boss. He is a big fan of you guys anyway," said Brynn. "He'll be sure to let me go with you guys, and he'll probably keep paying me too!"

Hanso's jaw dropped. "Huuuh?"

"Come on, Hanso, let her come along. She can just tell her boss and be back by the time we've packed and board the tour bus."

"Hu's boardin' the tour bus?" Pickpocket had woken up.

"Brynn is," Animal answered, and told Pick the story so far. The Zafara lost the bleary, groggy look in his eyes and replaced it with a bright, happy one.

"Ah, goody, methinks it's tyme a lass joined us, eh, Animal?" Pick nudged Brynn. "If y'know whut ah mean."

"Erm, I think so," said Brynn carefully.

"Good! Nawh, ye'd better be runnin' along to tell yer boss, cuz when you get back, it's Pin The Tail on the Bori Time! Other than me, only lasses appreciate that game." Pick went out onstage to start packing, cheering all the way.

Hanso groaned. So now he had to put up with Brynn on their tour bus AND Pickpocket's mad games of Pin The Tail on the Bori? And he thought that he'd left the weird life (and that blasted game) behind. He sighed and went out to help his band members.

* * *

Brynn put on her work-assigned Virtupets Head Set and tuned it to receive her boss' frequency. She was sure that he would be absolutely furious, seeing as she had not punched in by the time she had told her boss she would. It was already the start of lunch break, and she hoped that he was in a good mood because of that. Otherwise, she was going to be in for a big scolding.

"BRYNNETH! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? YOU'RE TWO HOURS LATE FOR WORK, AND YOU HAVEN'T EVEN DONE ANY WORK ON YOUR HEAD SET AT **ALL**!"

"Hello, boss," Brynn said sheepishly. "I can explain ever-"

"AND WHAT'S MORE," her boss cut in. "YOU HAD A CLOSE RELATIONSHIP WITH ROGUE FROM FLIP SIDE AND DID NOT – I REPEAT, DID **NOT, **TELL ME! You KNEW I was a HUGE fan of Flip Side and KEPT ALL THIS FROM ME! Never mind your undone work, you KNEW Rogue all along and didn't even get me an AUTOGRAPH! Or ANYTHING! AT ALL! Forget the work and punctuality, that doesn't matter now. YOU'RE FIRED FOR HIDING THIS FROM ME!"

"Uh, boss? I was just about to-"

"No more! Goodbye, Brynn."

The line cut off, then the head set flickered and disappeared from around her head like an image disappearing after a TV's been turned off. Brynn sighed and muttered "So much for telling him about the touring."

Brynn dejectedly walked back to the tour bus.

Hanso entered the tour bus, carrying some sub-woofers with the rest of the band. The manager was sitting in a corner, and only his silhouette was visible. Flip Side's band manager was, like Pick, aging. He always wore a belt that had tons of phones strapped to it, all blaring away with the cacophony of many different ringtones all at once. However, today there was merely silence.

Hanso went over to him. "Uh, Kagrin, what happened to your phones?"

However, as Hanso got closer he realized it wasn't Kagrin. This was a different Neopet.

Kagrin didn't answer. He just sat there, chin on knuckle. Hanso edged closer to the weirdly silent Neopet. Pickpocket whipped out a boom box and started playing some dramatic, suspenseful music.

Hanso ignored him and said "Something's wrong," like the epic cliché in nearly every thriller movie. He finally ran the last few steps to Kagrin and shook him.

"Are you o-" Hanso started. Pick stopped the music, then put on an even more dramatic track as Hanso's eyes widened to the size of a Spardel's.

"Xandra?" Hanso exclaimed.


	5. Animal

Brynn entered the bus with a mock sweep of her hand. "Hello!"

The tense atmosphere she could suddenly feel in the bus fried her grand greeting, so she went over to see why everyone seemed to be huddling in one spot.

"You can't be our new manager!" Hanso was shrieking, in his Ready-To-Rant pose. "What happened to Kagrin?"

Brynn hustled her way to the center of the huddle to find a very familiar, world-weary Speckled Xweetok glaring at Hanso. "He retired," she said. "We were friends. He recommended that I take over as manager of one of the most popular bands of all time. How was I supposed to know that they were actually a bunch of ex-convicts? I can't believe I left my books to get away from all the memories. And now, they've come back to haunt me as my NEW JOB!"

"Whaddaya mean haunting YOU? You've come back to haunt ME!" Hanso said, j'accuse style.

"Kagrin described you as the perfect rock group, and told me that you were easy to work with! What a big lie that was. I'd quit right now too, but it looks like you guys need someone to organise you. And I'd be the one for the job. And, being your superior, you have to do as I ask. Now let's stop this and clean up my bus." Xandra looked rather pleased with herself.

"Hey, hey, hey, we're the band, this is OUR bus, we are going to sing OUR songs on OUR tour using OUR instruments. Nothing here is YOURS. I bet even Brynn'd agree. Right?" Hanso looked at Brynn for confirmation, all the earlier fuss forgotten.

Xandra's head swivelled around to look at Brynn. "When did you join the band?" she asked, looking more horrified than she had been earlier.

"Er, today." Brynn shrugged. "After the reviews, Animal and Pick voted me in."

Xandra visibly melted into the chair.

"Don't worry, dear lass," Pickpocket said cheerily. "We can all forget this ruckus by playin' some Pin the Tail on the Bori! Howzat sound? Eh? Eh?"

Receiving no reply, Pickpocket slunk back to another corner of the van. Meanwhile, Brynn, Hanso and Xandra continued to stare down each other.

"Guys, there's no need for all this," Animal tried. "Xandra is our new manager, Brynn is our new member, and we ALL own the bus. We can all eventually learn to work together. Now, just calm down. Deep Breaths. In. Out. In. Ou-"

All three looked daggers at him. Animal just calmly stared back. Their gazes dropped.

"I guess Animal's right," Brynn admitted. "We HAVE to try and work together anyway, seeing as there isn't much choice."

Xandra sighed, then got up and set up a work station at the far end of the bus. She opened her laptop, put some paperwork on the table and ignored everybody else. Hanso just went to the other end of the bus to pout/try to boycott Pickpocket's preparations for Pin the Tail on the Bori.

Brynn sighed. 'So much for working together...' She thought. 'Well, might as well try and repair the damage before it gets worse.'

"Hey Xandra?"

Xandra looked up from her laptop. She looked down almost immediately.

"Can you hear me out for a moment?"

Her ears twitched.

"Okay, let me paraphrase that: can you listen to me for a moment?"

Her ears twitched again. "Moment's over. Get back to your Creative Zone, or something."

Brynn shut her laptop closed. "I'm not going back to the others till you tell me what's wrong."

Xandra tried to open her laptop. Brynn's paw pressed harder on it. "You're going to break this thing at this rate."

"Don't care. I probably have enough royalties to pay for dozens of these as is. Now, will you listen to me for more than a few seconds or will I have to crush this laptop and many others before you do?"

Xandra grimaced. "You wouldn't dare."

Brynn returned the sour mood. "I would."

Crack.

"You're not serious; you'll hurt your paw this way."

"Like I said: don't care."

Crack. Split.

Xandra's face remained stony.

Brynn's remained pretty much the same.

The cover started showing visible signs of damage.

"Alright, that's enough you two!" Animal cried, coming between the two warring women. He turned to Brynn. "Brynn, stop trying to break this laptop; you'll hurt yourself." He turned to Xandra. "Boss, stop being such a jerk and make things up with your band members; it wouldn't be good for your job and the press if word gets out like this."

Xandra huffed. "And what makes you think you can stop me from hating every single one of you?"

Brynn came up to her manager's side. "Yeah, what does?"

Animal grinned. "This." Together in Electric Dreams started playing, but to their horror it seemed to be coming from inside their mind, since the CD player on the bus wasn't on and Pick had kept his radio. Animal leant closer and extended his tentacles, bit by bit, as evil psychedelic purple waves broke across their vision...

* * *

Entertainment Weekly: "Flip Side Scuffle leaves 2nd Lead, Manager in Shock! Media baffled by 'How'."

Reports from a source close to the band manager, Xandra, says that she was locked up in her room on the bus for more than 6 hours, not eating drinking OR going to the toilet. Seemingly shell-shocked, she was later heard saying "Oh dear sweet Fyora on buttered toast with jam, what was THAT?" two hours after being what scientists now call Animal Control, or otherwise 'Hurk! Blargh!' named after the reaction of a Hurk! Blargh!-ee immediately after Animal seems to harmlessly stare into a victim's eyes.


	6. The Fuzzles

Brynn was the first of the two previously warring women to emerge from her room. She staggered out into the now quiet main area of the bus' interior. Hanso was sprawled on the couch, sleeping. A small line of drool trailed from his mouth. Pick and Animal seemed to have gone to their rooms.

_Phew_, thought Brynn. That Hurk! Blargh! -ing had caused her to vomit uncontrollably, then left her shaking on her bed, reeling from the horrible things she had seen beyond Animal's tentacles. She presumed that Xandra had suffered the same reaction. Xandra WAS being rather stubborn and unwilling to listen to anyone. Brynn hoped that she would eventually soften or at least cooperate with them a bit more.

Brynn picked up the latest newspaper off its rack and flipped through it. Eventually she got to the music section, where there was a big article about another band making an overnight sensation.

_More competition_, she sighed inwardly.

In a corner of the centerspread article she noticed a small picture of the band. Reeling, she dropped the newspaper and her fotsteps thudded across the floor as she ran to wake up Hanso.

* * *

"Ah!" Hanso jerked at Brynn's touch. "Can't an Ixi have a nap in PEACE?"

"You have to look at this." Brynn shoved the newspaper article in front of Hanso's snout. He scanned the paper and flopped back onto the couch.

"The past IS COMING BACK to haunt me!" he screamed into a pillow. "First you, then Xandra, now THEM?"

"Hey," Brynn chided. "You got 5 star reviews when I performed at your concert. You can hardly say that I came back to HAUNT you, let alone help."

"You only notched it up by .25 of a star," Hanso grumbled. "But we can talk about this later. What matters now is that they're back.

* * *

Five minutes later the band was gathered in the main area of the tour bus for an emergency meeting called by Hanso.

"Whassit nao?" Pick didn't seem too happy about being roused from his nap. He was, after all, an aging Zafara, and he needed his rest.

Xandra, who was still shivering occasionally, flinched when Animal came to join them. She looked poorly, and had a blanket wrapped around her. Evidently she was still suffering from the Hurk! Blargh! -ing unlike Brynn. All the band members stared at the centerspread. Animal was the only one who didn't go completely hysterical after seeing it.

Meet the Shadow Wraiths! They are what they say they are, a band of Shadow Wraiths, the

last ones left after the Battle of Brightvale. Turning away from desctruction, they have

decided to put their talents into music instead! With songs that bring out the best of the

Roar genre, their first single, 'Graagh! (Rargh)' has debuted at the number 2 spot on the

Neopian billboard, just below the treasured top spot, currently held by rock veterans Flip

Side. Does this spell competition for them and other bands such as The Evil Fuzzles?

"WE'RE DOOMED!" Xandra shrieked. Her nerves had already been frayed to stumps. Seeing one of their worst enemies back just destroyed them altogether. The sight of the purple demons was too much for Pick too.

"Aye, these Shadow Wraiths dinnae give up easily, eh?"

Animal blinked. "We're still on the top of the charts. Even if they planned to destroy us musically, I don't think they're succeeding just yet."

"Well, they will, they're at the spot right below us! And it's their debut track at that!" Brynn failed to see how Animal could remain so positive.

"Well, at least we're nae tae only ones who have compatishun," Pickpocket pointed out. "Tae Evil Fuzzles are gonnae be challenged too, nae?"

"What do the Evil Fuzzles have to do with us?" Hanso asked. He wondered what Pick was getting at this time.

"We could make a deal with 'em, and together we could destrae thayse Shadow Wraiths once and fer all."

"Good idea, Pick, but how are we going to get to them?"

"I know," said Brynn. "Let's go."

* * *

Hanso stood in fromt of two huge steel-reinforced doors, kitted out in a VSS-standard issue spacesuit. Brynn was beside him, giving a thumbs up to Xandra, Animal and Pickpocket before pressing the rather evil looking red button on the side of the door before stepping out onto the platform.

Being a former employee of Grundos Cafe, Brynn was a familiar face to many of the workers, including Zygorax, who was a familiar face at the restaurant. The third-level waste cleaner had allowed them to enter the platform without a proper cleaning bot seeing that Brynn was a capable young Kougra and could handle any kind of situation. Another pointer was that she had Rogue with her, and he had given Zygorax his autograph as a sort of bribe.

"Are you sure you know how to get through to the Fuzzles?" he had asked them. When she hadn't replied, he had given her a translator.

"Keep it safe, or else my boss is gonna get mad," he had warned.

Brynn gripped the translator and tramped down the walkway. Her boots made sounds that were muffled through her helmet, but she knew that she would be making enough noise to arouse the Fuzzles.

The walkway was dusty and windy, and Hanso had to grab Brynn more than once to prevent her from floating away. Eventually Fuzzles had begun to swoop around them, examining the newcomers. Brynn greeted the biggest one, a huge Grey Fuzzle.

"Er, hello. We come in... peace? We're here to talk to The Evil Fuzzles."

"Raaargh! Bgarrh raagrarh," the Fuzzle rasped. Brynn fumbled with her translator. It said "We're ALL evil Fuzzles here."

"I meant the Roar band the Evil Fuzzles. Can you bring us to them?"

"Graaarh." The Fuzzle looked around at its comrades for approval. After five seconds of eye contact and nothing else, the Fuzzle turned to them again.

"Braggh grabblargh hararalgh." _Follow them._

The Fuzzles began to fly away. Brynn and Hanso fired up their jetpacks and soared after them into the deep recesses of space.


	7. The Trial

Despite her perfectly rational fear of the Evil Fuzzles, Brynn was sure that she could negotiate with them.

After all, they were just a gigantic, simple-minded race of space... thingies. They couldn't possibly be hard to convince, this fact only reinforced by her new knowledge of their rather sophisticated and high class lifestyle.

Yes, a gigantic, simple-minded race of space... thingies... who lived in a gigantic, beautifully carved out planet, dotted from corner to corner with beautiful crystal formations, fine space fungi and even finer art, with a very nice (and actually superior to Neopian) Government Structure and Heirarchy, to boot, couldn't possibly be closed to peaceful, non-violent negotiation... as a matter of fact, they, the citizens of the planet, the latter aptly named Olympia, would probably welcome the idea of an outsider willing to talk with them instead of blasting them into space goo with guns! Why, that just might be what they could really want out of the people outside of their proverbial and literal glorious mountain in the clouds.

… Why else would they have escorted Brynn and Hanso into such a beautiful, plush room filled to the brim with fine refreshment and a number of things to pass the time or help them prepare their case for the Pantheon?

Brynn whimpered pathetically. "Oh, _Fyora_."

Who was she trying to kid? The Evil Fuzzles weren't a patient, sophisticated and understanding race of Noble Space... Thingies! They were animals! Animals who reveled in destruction and consuming in excess! Animals who were probably all but closed to peaceful negotiation! Animals who would probably eat her for trying to open peaceful negotiations!

… As a matter of fact, this room they were in was probably their version of the Last Meal of Cheesus Toast! A twisted, cruel, ironic version of the Last Meal of Cheesus Toast...

She dropped to her knees. "Oh, Fyora... what did I just do?"

She quickly wished she hadn't asked that question, as the universe answered very quickly, in the most brutally honest way possible.

The first answer was that she didn't bring a gun, the single most important tool you could ever have on you should you try to negotiate with Evil Fuzzles. Sure, it didn't sound very diplomatic, but it was the Evil Fuzzles; the diplomatic side's packing heat was probably understood by both sides and looked upon without a second look or the bat of an eye.

The second answer was that had indirectly decided to fight the Evil Fuzzles with hand-to-hand combat should anything go wrong. Forget the fact that she was well-trained in turning her body into one of the most dangerous weapons Neopia had ever seen, these were Fuzzles; they'd chomp off her paws and limbs faster than she could take a swing at them, and even then, beating up Fuzzles was like offing someone with a metal spoon: horribly slow and extremely inefficient.

The third answer was that she had trapped herself. Not trapped in the sense that the doors wouldn't open—no, the doors were as efficient as they were beautiful—she was trapped in the sense that millions of Evil Fuzzles surrounded her in all directions, the only things stopping their eating her were two doors, four soundproof walls, a nice ceiling, and a pair of rocket boots that couldn't possibly outrun the speed they could go at, all facts made worse by the fact that she had voluntarily heaped all problems onto herself.

She fell forward to the floor and curled up like a sick puppy. She whimpered. "Oh, Fyora... I am so dead if I can't convince them."

A shroud of Despair coated over the Kougra. Whatever was left of her bravery and confidence was slowly and surely suffocated and blinded, the light that was her will power slowly fading away as Despair took over, wrapping its arms around her in a twisted, macabre version of the bear-hug.

All was lost.

Then, the Despair started purring and nuzzling itself into her neck in the most disturbing yet adorable way possible.

Even more was lost.

Suddenly, a spark of hope and determination lit up within her. The Despair looked up in confusion. Then, the inky blackness screamed and fled as a huge, blazing inferno of Hope burned its arms. _Back!_ The Inferno commanded.

All went suddenly went silent in Brynn's psyche, the only sound being the gentle crackling of the Inferno's flames. It was a wonderful moment, this moment of peace and quiet... it was quite the nice change from the chaos and doom that had been consuming her.

The Inferno turned to Brynn. _You okay, Brynn?_

Brynn's claws wiggled.

_Atta' girl. Now, since you're free from that Despair, get up._

Brynn whimpered.

_Don't give me that. Get up._

I—we're... doomed."

_No we're not. Get up._

Brynn just stayed there, motionless. Mind you, it wasn't because she didn't believe that it was worth it to get up; it was because she was pretty sure that the flaming, talking image in her eyes right now was a very sure sign that her two years of Virtupets Customer had finally started to unveil it's printed, much-advertised and very well-known side-effect: Permanent Brain Damage.

_Okay, fine, I admit it: I'm technically just brain damage you conjured up due to extreme stress, but admit it, I'm giving you great advice._

Brynn had to give her Brain Damage a point in that category. The crack in her mental foundation seemed to be more helpful than she had originally thought.

_Score One for Ms. Sam! That's me, by the way. Now score one for yourself and get up._

Why Sam of all names?"

_Sam I am, by Dr. Seuss, my dear Brynneth._

Wow. Brynn decided that, since the the rip in her sanity had a name and referenced one of her most loved authors from now to all of eternity, it was now much, much more believable and trustworthy. Brynn put out one paw to the floor, and little by little, she started pushing herself up. She wasn't with the sliver of a doubt that she was actually nuttier than a fruitcake, though.

_That's right. Get up. Get up for Sam, your new personal adviser who lives in your head._

She was now standing up, albeit in a slouching, unsteady matter.

_Straighten yourself up, Boss._

Brynn obeyed. She wondered if it was a good idea to had done so. After all, this wasn't a spiritual being come to rescue her from the Sealed Evil in a Can, this was a byproduct of Brain Damage coming to overwrite a completely different form of Brain Damage. Granted, Sam was a lot better than Despair... she was more helpful, caring, concerned and a lot less vaguely... suggestive.

Plus, being called Boss was pretty awesome.

_Atta go, Boss! That's the spirit! Get rid of all that Negativity you've been piling on yourself!_

Brynn shrugged like an action hero about to go into Butt Kicking mode. Through that simple action, she felt all the negativity just literally fall off of her, like they were weights she had piled on herself just to make a stupid, unreasonable and harmful excuse for her failure. She stretched her muscles and made sure bone and joints cracked with the most wonderful crack they could produce.

She grinned like the over-confident Red Ranger in every Power Rangers ever. She wasn't afraid anymore. She was feeling strong. She was feeling confident. She felt like she could take this on—wait, no, she COULD take this on—she WOULD take this on! And she was going to win it because she was just that awesome!

Thanks, Sam; I needed that. Now schmooze me some more! I'm feeling selfish and greedy, in a _good_ way."

_You got it. You can do this boss. You WILL do this boss. You are Brynneth. You are strong. These Evil Fuzzles will be a cake walk for you. You will negotiate like no Neopet has ever negotiated before. You will destroy the Shadow Wraiths with the power of the Evil Fuzzles once—no, when you get them on your side. Flip Side will reign supreme once you do this. You will win. You and Flip Side will emerge victorious on the battlefield of warring Heavy Metal bands. As a matter of fact, you will do more than convince them; you will bring them to their knees! They will be like dogs, eagerly awaiting your orders! Once you go through that door, you will butter them up so much they will bend over from being so buttery they can't stand up like the hard, crusty, and burnt toast they are and then you'll be able to pick them up and eat their fat loaded selves and they won't care because you buttered them up so much!_

... what?"

_Just get out there, Boss... throw open those doors and become Flip Side's sole savior from the power of the Shadow Wraiths! I mean, not that we're gonna rely completely on the Fuzzles' help because we can't handle the Wraiths ourselves and—_

It's okay, Sam; all that matters now is that it's time to present my case to the Evil Fuzzles! It's go time! Flip Side Alliance or Death!"

Brynn put both paws to the beautiful doors. She knew that in just a few moments, those doors would burst open dramatically, crashing to the sides to reveal her... complete with glorious, suddenly-appearing-for-no-reason light lighting her back up dramatically, too! Then, in her most epic and professional voice, she was going to announce "Pantheon, Evil Fuzzles, my name is Brynneth Gardien and I present to you my case!"

… or, at least, she would have done all that cool stuff, had Hanso not grabbed her from behind and held down her arms as strongly as he could.

Hanso, what are you doing?" Brynn cried as she struggled for freedom, "You're ruining my moment! Stop it and let me negotiate with the Evil Fuzzles, o—what's that buzzing noise? It doesn't sound very nice!"

I'h sho, sho shorry for doin' vhish, Vrynn..." Hanso garbled as he bit down on the button of his VirtuPets Paralzyer ©, "Vut trush vee: jule tank me latuh!" 


	8. Jarring Interests

This chapter and the previous were written by Ruff.

Sorry for the wait, I've been pretty busy with other projects and we took a long break before actually putting FS8 together. -Ian

* * *

The door to room 98 greeted its new visitor with a silent 'whoosh,' swirls of frosty air, and almost complete darkness, the fancy machines of Medical Bay serving as the only lights.

"Afternoon, Brynn, Sam..." The visitor, a dressed-to-the-9's Ixi, greeted, "So, uh, you heard that the Evil Fuzzles plan was actually a green-light way before we thought of it? Turns out Junior—that's the lead-man of the Fuzzles, by the way—actually had beef with the Wraiths before they even thought of Roar Metal. Pretty amazing, huh?"

No response from either of the occupants; just the sounds of the medical equipment running.

Hanso peered into the darkness. "Kind of dark in here, don't you guys think? Mind if I turn on the lights or something so I don't flail around in the dark?"

Still no response from either.

Hanso sighed. "I'll take that as a no or either or both of you are ignoring me. If it's the first, forgive me, but I'm not going to risk breaking something again out of ignorance."

(Click.)

The solar powered lighting of her room fired up, slowly replacing the darkness with sunlight. Not the poor, so-called "Sunlight" the call center and her apartment supplied her for two years; pure, straight from the solar panels sunlight delivered to her by only the finest optical fibers Virtupets could manufacture. It was warm, it was lovely, it was real, but it was the last thing Brynn wanted to see second only to Hanso.

Did you have to do that?" Brynn asked, "I was pretending that I was somewhere nice and far away from here... like roaming Arcadia, feeling the fresh grass on my feet and smelling the sweet flowers and stepping on petpet 'baked goods.' Or at the Recreation Dome, lounging about the swimming pool with my feet in free water or paying my way in to the premium side so I can avoid the Free Man's Crush. Heck, I would kill for a chance to be back at my apartment, playing Move it to the Beat on my G-Cube 720 and fail on Helliconia – Hard Mode again. Anything to distract me from knowing that I'm in here for the next three days, all because of you and your little Paralyzer."

Hanso sheepishly looked away. "Okay, I admit it: it was wrong of me to shock you like that. But you admit it: I had to stop you. And by the way, using force on a women is out of my morals! I didn't want to risk breaking your arm or something, and I had to stop you, so what was I supposed to do?"

Oh, I don't know... talk me out of it like the Smooth Criminal you are, maybe? And by the way, get your morals for a recalibration: breaking an arm is a lot better than potentially killing the person you're trying to subdue."

Hanso cringed. "I'll keep that in mind..."

Indeed you should. Hey, I have an idea: why don't you do something right and leave me alone so you don't dampen my day even more. Oh wait, there is no sunshine here... so to speak."

Hanso looked at Brynn with a look of disgust. "Hey, what's all this talk about no bright side in your situation? There is a bright side, Brynn. Multiple ones, actually! Let's see: You get to have a mandatory vacation for three days. Video games, movies, e-books, art, internet... all free for you to use and you don't even need to lift a finger 'cause it's all right here. No paparazzi, no Xandra, no TNCZ, no Record Label, no stress whatsoever, too! With all those combined, I'm sure you'll pass by these three days without even remembering a single bit of it."

Still radiating obnoxious sunshine, Hanso stepped over to Brynn and manually turned her brain jar to face the smaller brain jar that housed the infected batch of brain cells that is Sam. "Look at Sam! She's so enamored with watching all those films with Hedlund in them, I bet she hasn't even noticed it's been half a day since I accidentally paralyzed you and consequently her from the bottom neck down, forcing the doctors here to extract you two from your head so they could repair the damage I did! You can do the same, can't you?"

Being forced to see how nonplussed Sam was by the loss of their body only sought to make Brynn angry. Hanso's doing it only made her angrier. So, as she was currently a brain, eyes, and part of a spine floating in a preservation unit filled with spinal fluid, she immediately communicated her anger the only way she could: words and sarcasm.

Great points, Hanso." Her thought-translation unit said, her eyeballs brightening up sarcastically in the jar of spinal fluid, "I do have a rather great set-up here! No stress and no physical body, just entertainment for three days! You know Hanso, I'm surprised that I desperately tried to think I was someplace else other than in this jar: I'm my core essentials in the very literal sense of the phrase! That's awesome! I'm so very centered with my self and my very being. It's actually pretty awesome to be like this, unable to communicate with you outside of talking, what with my not having eyelids to give you a dirty look, no face to make angry faces at you, and most importantly, no paws to rip you to shreds with!" Brynn proclaimed with biting sarcasm and murderous cheer.

Hanso felt the biting sarcasm and the thinly veiled death threat all too much. He turned Brynn's brain jar back to the default position. "I can see you're still angry about that. Would it make you feel better if I finally said sorry?"

Brynn just dropped the sarcasm at that point and went to plain, unadulterated fury. "Sorry is not going to make me feel better, Hanso!" She screamed, "Sorry is not going to speed-up my body's re-wiring! Sorry is not going to undo your paralyzing me from the bottom neck down! Sorry is not going to get me the chocolate cake I desperately need because of this mess! Sorry is not going to let me violently maim you!"

The fury suddenly went down a level, stopping at neutral. "Sorry is not going to let me express how happy I am that you visited me, even though Animal, Pick, and Xandra were the ones who got to it first."

The neutral fell further, stopping at sadness. "Sorry is not going to let me hug you..."

Then, the sadness just turned into crying.

Hanso patted the glass of Brynn's jar. "There, there..." He gently rubbed the glass, "It'll be all right..."

Eventually, Brynn's tears stopped registering on the translator. Soon enough, the two found themselves in the silence again.

Thanks." Brynn said, "I needed that."

Hanso gave Brynn's preservation unit one last rub before putting his hand off of it. "No problem. I should probably get to business soon; I can't stay here for very long."

If Brynn had eyelids, they would have opened wide in shock and sadness. "Go? Can't you stay?"

Hanso shook his head. "Didn't the others tell you about it?"

No! They were all smiles and well wishing... with a subtle flavor of dread and... wow I am an idiot... so... what's the bad news?"

Hanso pulled out a very official looking document from inside his coat. Brynn saw that it was a document from The Other Kingdom Records—Flip Side's label.

I was here to tell you that the Record got tired of our little reunion and the escapades, and they want us to stop. Immediately"

Brynn stayed silent.

Seeing that there would be no response, Hanso continued. "They want us to stop so much that they actually gave us a legal—and completely justified—Cease and Desist order. From what Animal and Xandra told me about the legal jargon, it all boils down to this: until you're signed up as an official member of Flip Side—contract and all that paperwork—you're not allowed to make or suggest business or plans to us, Xandra found a loophole that'll get the Record to pay for the operations and this room, and finally, for the sake of keeping our Investors and the concert goers happy, the Tour is going to go as scheduled which equates to me, Animal, and Pick getting sent on a one way trip back down to Neopia while you float in your spinal fluid and Xandra tries to reason with the TOK Records' Lawyers. They're not even nice tickets, by the way: they're Drop Pod tickets."

Brynn would have cringed had she a face. Drop Pods were the fastest, cheapest—and bizarrely enough, safest—way to get down from the station, but that was about as pleasant as they got. The rest of the trip would involve being stuck in a gyroscope, being forced to experience the rush of Atmospheric Entry, and finally get violently thrown out onto your designated drop zone once the pod smashed open upon impact.

Hanso made a look of disgust. "We can't even take any other ride down. Efficiency and punctuality, they say. Well, efficiency and punctuality my foot!" He quipped.

Brynn honestly felt guilty. Sure, she wanted to kick Hanso's butt to a bloody pulp then solidify him so she could repeat the butt-kicking, but she sure didn't want to subject Hanso—more-so Animal and Pick—to their life-stories in the span of five seconds and possibly get them in touch with their inner women. Worse, if they were going to do this in the Terror Mountain concert proper and they didn't stick the landing... hoo boy, the internet was going to get one more viral video to its name.

Hanso sensed the guilt. "Don't feel bad, Brynn. I always wanted to try out this safe screaming metal death trap. Honestly. And about the concert? We're not doing it there; management's smart enough to know that Drop Pod entrances go right once every twenty attempts. And before you ask, we're going to land by the Tyrannian border. Apparently, that's as far as This Other Kingdom Records trusts contracted movers with all our stuff."

Brynn nodded. Then, she remembered that, without a neck, she couldn't nod. "I see."

Hanso shuffled a bit. He looked at his watch. The grimace that came over him was not a very good sign. "I really gotta go; I was already running late before I got here."

Then, fast as lightning, Hanso got down to his knees, went eye-to-eyeball with Brynn, planted a quick kiss on the glass (right where her lips would have been if she had lips), turned off the lights and was out the door.

If Brynn had a mouth, she would have smiled.


	9. Bad News

The notice was succinct and ominous: "We have bad news for you. Please inform us when you are ready to hear it."

Faced with such a clear sign of Doom Incoming, Brynn proceeded with the plan of action she knew to be the most effective, most appropriate, and most practical of them all: she screamed, panicked, wailed, cried, assumed all of the plausible (and some implausible) WCS (Worst Case Scenarios) that could happen—maybe only one, maybe a hodgepodge, nightmarish combination of all of them—and forced Sam to make it all better.

"Oh, Fyora, this can't be happening, this can't be happening!" She wailed, her spinal fluid bubbling violently. "Somebody, please tell me this isn't happening!"

Sam promptly did as she was told. _'It isn't happening.'_

"What do you mean it isn't happening?" Brynn spat, "It is happening! I just got an official notice from the Virtupets Medical Bay Staff, and as everybody knows, these guys don't mess around! **Why **did you tell me it isn't happening when the evidence is to the contrary?"

Indeed, how could she say it in the first place? Sam was a product of her Right Hemisphere—the Logic Center! All her specifics and functions should be leading her to the right conclusion: that this was well and truly happening!

What sort of reason could she possibly have to go against her nature and give her an ironic answer?

_'Uh... because you told me to?'_

Brynn's anger was quickly extinguished, the raging fire beaten out with the sheer force of Sam's bluntness.

"Oh. Right. Forget I said anything, okay?"

_'Yes Boss.'_

Somewhere, out there, Brynn felt a group of higher ups striking one for Sam, nil for her. She recovered quickly, though; now was the time to blindly assume the worst and terrify herself with the twisted, unreasonable machinations of her creative mind, not feel the amused scrutiny of the Higher Powers or the sting of being unintentionally one-upped by an infection/program.

"So..." Brynn said, still reeling from her latest failure in communication, "What do you think it is?"

_'Hmm... well, given the very vague and universal nature of "Bad News", I'd have to say that maybe you're just in for a delay in getting your body rewired.'_

Sam's answer was logical, plausible, and could very well be the Bad News the staff was talking about. After all, the Virtupets Medical Bay Staff were highly trained professionals; their majorly screwing up an operation was a fate left only to the most unlucky of people. But, since she had already had her precious, majorly expensive, golden Flip Side Token stolen from her (by one of the band members no less), COMPLETELY missed out on the concert she had paid so much for (and didn't even get the promised freebies with the Gold Token, to boot), suffered immense psychological and mental trauma from a HURK!BLARGH!-ing, come face-to-face with the Evil Fuzzles, was fondled inappropriately by an all too real figment of her imagination, paralyzed by her own idol, then had her brain stuffed into a jar due to complications from said paralysis, she felt that she was exactly the sort of unlucky Neopian to receive a Major Screw Up from Virtupets Medical Bay.

"That can't be it!" She said, "I'm way too unlucky to just get a short delay. It's something more horrible than that! I can just feel it. But what? What is it? I must know! The suspense is killing me!"

_'Then why don't you just inform the staff that you're ready to hear it?'_

Brynn was appalled. "Inform them that I'm ready to hear it? Inform them that I'm ready to hear it! Do you really think that I'm just going to go ahead and tell the staff that I'm ready for them to tell me the bad news despite the fact that I'm clearly not ready and am having a mental breakdown, to boot?"

_'Yes.'_

Brynn, in a split-second, whip-lashed to happiness. "Good! I'm so glad to see that you know me so well~"

With a few clicks, a mental note, and a press of the send button, Brynn's message to the staff was well on it's way.

Now all the two needed to do was wait patiently.

_'So, now that we have some time to kill, would you kindly fill me in on how Flip Side deals with the Fan Girls during a crisis like this? Everyone seems to be very tight-lipped about it.'_

"Oh, that? Well, that's pretty simple. It's surprisingly controversial once it ends, though."

Elsewhere on Neopia, Hanso "Shadow" Tremaine, Puck John "Pick" McDulley, (no first name given) "Animal" (no last name given), and a few very unfortunate Roadies were sitting at a table in Terror Mountain, gigantic lines of very angry fangirls in front of them.

"Hello... Melissa." Hanso said in his best "I'm really, truly, honestly sorry" voice, "I'm so sorry I had Brynn put on stage without prior notice or your consent." He then pulled the most beautiful puppy-dog eyes he could ever pull, complete with an inexplicable frame of sparkles and rose petals. "Could you ever forgive me?"

Melissa squealed. "Oh, of course I could, Shadow!"

Animal, Pick, and the unlucky Roadies squirmed in their seats as they braced for yet another round of "Why her and not me?" rants from their current fan-girl.

_'So they just set up a table like that and they wait for hours in the freezing cold?'_

"Yup. They did it after the Make a Wish Foundation episode and when Hanso lost a game of poker, so doubtless, they'll do it again."

_'I don't even have actual emotional capabilities and I feel sorry for them... and Hanso just repeats that same script and they never know the difference?'_

"Exactly."

_'I might not be as logical and discerning as I thought...'_

"Don't worry Sam; we fangirls are usually BEYOND all logic."

_'I see. Fascinating.'_

Pause.

Brynn sighed. "It's talking them an awfully long time to get here..."

_'It might be because of the lack of living personnel here. Fragile or controversial news really shouldn't be handled by medical drones.'_

"Good point... wait, why didn't they just send Xandra to tell me that? Surely she could process that into something less blunt than a drone's monotone!"

_'She could be busy, Boss.'_

"With what, exactly?"

In the private visitor's lounge bathroom outside Brynn's room, Xandra was lying down in an empty bathtub, a giant bowl of jelly-beans within arms-reach, GooTooth in her ear, mouthfuls of jelly beans in her mouth, drool coming out the sides of said mouth, and a very, very angry This Other Kingdom Records investor on the other side of the line.

"Whu?" Xandra said while munching vigorously on a handful of jelly-beans. "Eatin'? Wry vud I du shuch an unprufeshunal ving ash eatin'?" She continued munching, then swallowed. "My GuTutsh jus gamaged..." More munching, "Ja, I jropped it in a shake or shunthin... I can' rill rererber..." She swallowed and wiped off some of the trails of drool at the sides of her mouth. She then shoved another handful of jelly-beans into her mouth. "Shurry, conekshun drapped an' shtuff..." She munched on the new batch.

"Whu? Replaysche dis? Shurry, TOK Recurdsh doshint want chu pay afturr Vrynn's shurgury and shtuff..."

"... Or she could be busy on her knees, begging for forgiveness for me. Man, that would be horrible."

_'Would they really have that sort of authority to sway her like that?'_

"It's money, Sam, and they have lots of it. As a matter of fact, lots of it would probably be a big understatement."

_'True, true...'_

Both paused yet again.

"So, how long has it been since we've sent the notice?"

'Well, given the amount of time we've been talking, the brief pauses in between, and those two bizarre cut-offs to our conversations that suddenly pick-up way later into it after a certain period of time... five minutes, forty-seven seconds.'

Brynn was simultaneously amazed and annoyed. "Five minutes? What are we, in a TV drama where nothing interesting happens to us so they can justifiably cut-off to more interesting bits?"

Before Sam could reply, a third voice pitched in. "Could be! You never really know what could happen here on the Station."

Sam's visual sensors and Brynn's jar turned to face the source of the third voice: a bulky, male human of Mexican descent, dressed in a lab coat, beige slacks, and penny loafers. He was clutching a manila folder.

"Greetings! My name is Dr. Marco James Martilyo, and I will be your bringer of bad news today. So, would you like to receive the news now or would you like some reassuring words of comfort to soften the blow?"

Brynn thought for a moment. On one hand, she could just receive the bad news because her dying need to know what the bad news was was reawakened by Dr. Martilyo's arrival. She would know what the bad news was and her need would finally be sated, but she might suffer more if the bad news turned out to be quite horrible. On the other hand, she could get some cushioning and foreshadowing to what the bad news might be. Her dying need to know might be whipped up even more, but then, she could suffer less if the news turned out to be quite horrible.

She then decided that she'd rather know right now than be kept waiting any longer.

"Give me the bad news, Doc."

Dr. Martilyo nodded, opened the manila file, pulled out two sets of X-rays and two sets of muscle scans, then, true to his namesake, was incredibly blunt and straightforward with his answer: "Your body's seriously worn-out. Not injured, not tired from whatever you were doing before you were paralyzed, not damaged from disease, just plain crappy." He showed the ladies the first X-ray. "This is an X-ray of your front side. As you can see from all the parts we've circled in red and made comments on, they are all black, hardened, clumped up in disgusting masses, seriously degraded or are suffering a combination of any of those. The worst parts would be your knees, as they're all damaged and stiff from under-use. If you hadn't been able to dance for a really long time, this is the culprit." He put down the first and pulled out the second. "This is an X-ray of your back area. The damage and the comments are all pretty much the same as the front. The worst parts here would happen to be your spine, which, aside from the paralyzed neurons we've highlighted in electric blue, is damaged and out of focus from really bad posture, bad furniture, extreme lack of good nutrition, or as we all suspect, a combination of all three. Surprisingly, your butt-bones in pretty bad shape, too, despite it having obviously received a lot of cushioning and lack of stress." He put down the last of the X-rays and went to first of the muscle scans. "This is your front area. As you can see here, the only healthy parts here would be your mammary region. The rest is stressed, have too much fat, are ripped apart and unable to heal, or are suffering a combination of all three." He put down the first of the muscle scans and showed them the last. "This is your back area. Pretty much everything is horrible, most especially with your posterior area and their huge build-up of useless fat." He shoved all four files back into their manila file. "Under the moral and practical standards we have for surgeries and procedures of this nature, we can't put your brain, the upper region of your spine, and your eyeballs back into your body."

If Brynn had eyelids and a functioning neck, she would have blinked and tilted her head to the side.

"Wait, what?"

Dr. Martilyo prepared to open the manila file again. "Do you want me to repeat my explanations?"

"No!" Brynn yelled, "I want an explanation that I can understand! Namely, a slower moving explanation with terms I can understand!"

'_I understood all of that...'_

Brynn let out an annoyed sigh. "Not the point! I am not letting you leave till you give me a simple explanation in less than ten words!"

Dr. Martilyo gave himself five seconds to think of his answer.

The answer was exactly ten words, brief, and was easily understandable: "Your body is junk. We're not putting you back in."


End file.
